


The Devil and Yusuke Kitagawa

by EldritchChoir



Series: Le Bien Qui Fait Mal [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: A lot of firsts, Beware of horny teens, Character Study, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira (Unrequited), M/M, One Night Stands, One Shot, Original Male Kousei Student, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 07:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12294618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchChoir/pseuds/EldritchChoir
Summary: Yusuke learns how to vent his emotional distress the old-fashioned way, with a bit of guidance from a classmate, and learns a few new things about himself along the way. Overall, it's a very stimulating experience. (Optional prologue for Antivenin)





	The Devil and Yusuke Kitagawa

The aftermath of Madarame’s palace had left Yusuke in a state of bitter emptiness that threatened to hold him in the grip of despair indefinitely. For the first time in his life, he felt he had no clear compass. No guiding hand, or reachable goal. He struggled to remember who he himself was, tracing over and over again the memories of his childhood. Madarame was not a father, but he could have essentially been one, since Yusuke had no concept of what a father was really meant to be. There was very little anchoring him to his past now that he was living in the Kousei dorms. Perhaps it had really been a bad idea to concede to this, when he had a feeling his newly found friend, Akira, would had been more than happy to share his attic room for a while longer. Yusuke felt a new kind of loneliness where he was living now—sleeping in a room where the sounds around him came from strangers and not his teacher and fellow pupils. But at the same time, he could not imagine imposing on Akira for more than necessary. The idea of leeching off of someone else was especially abhorrent to him, and for good reason. The last thing he wanted was to be a parasite, and if being independent meant having sleep for dinner on more than one occasion so that he could afford more paint, so be it.

 Overall, he felt like an astronaut lost in space, floating farther and farther away from safety, awaiting his inevitable demise. Much worse was his current inability to express himself through artwork. The blockage he felt was not letting him vent any of his feelings properly. He was uncomfortable expressing his woes to anyone else his current emotional state, and now even canvas was not a worthy confidant. He was helpless to do much but cling to the things in front of him—the Phantom Thieves, and the slow awakening to his inner strength. So much told him he would heal eventually, but right now, that felt like a far off promise. The loss of everything he knew was an open wound he didn’t know how to treat.

 The only sense of familiarity he had was in his old habits. People watching. It wasn’t a particularly interesting hobby, but Madarame had always explained art to him as the ability to see and observe as truly and authentically as possible. Part of Yusuke wondered if he stared at the world around him for long enough, if he would transcend the scope of vision of ordinary human beings, and gain the sight of a true artistic genius. At the very least, watching others helped him not think of himself for a while. He liked to imagine the lives of the people he saw, and was fascinated by the fact that he would never see many of these faces ever again. By day, he stood underground in Shibuya station. But by night, he preferred to walk in Shinjuku alone. By his looks and height, everyone always assumed him to be older than high school age, and so he was typically left alone. He was careful to never wear his uniform around anyway. Sometimes he would visit bars and dance clubs as well. He preferred the night clubs because of the constant flurry of motion, blending with lights and sound. It was a sensory feast, and the perfect solution to his current depressive state. He didn’t like to dance himself, but was perfectly happy sitting alone with his sketchbook.

On one particular night he recognized something. An anomaly—a face he recognized. It wasn’t someone he knew personally-- a fellow Kousei student who lived on the same floor in the dorms as him. A senior with a peculiar, and therefore recognizable appearance. His black hair was styled in an ultra-fashionable, short bowlcut, closely shaved underneath. This was a style currently popular with the goth scene in Harajuku. He had no eyebrows either. They were shaved clean off and replaced with two perfect dots. Whoever this was, he must have been a part of the Kousei fashion program. Destined for Bunka University, or something similar. Yusuke observed him crossing the dance floor to the bar and began to sketch, noting that out of uniform, this Kousei student seemed to make endlessly more sense. It was as if there was something missing from him when he had seen him before back on campus. An essential part of him that he was holding back. A mask, much like the one Yusuke himself had become accustomed to wearing in the general public.

Yusuke watched him as he approached an older-looking man at the bar, grinning captivatingly and drawing nearer to speak in his ear. The older man was in a well-tailored suit. Likely a business executive with money to burn through. He seemed to be taken aback judging by how he recoiled slightly. However, after a few minutes of conversation, in which the Kousei student gradually closed the distance between them with a series of flirtatious touches, the man turned to catch the attention of the bartender. Yusuke had stopped his hand without realizing it, just to watch. He never understood how easily some people could obtain alcohol when they were still underage. What had he said anyway? What made this Kousei student so confident he could get his intended result without it backfiring on him?

 Their conversation continued, and once the Kousei student had gotten his drink, he seemed to not let up on the amorous behavior, kissing his cheek and even moving to sit in his lap. Honestly, how could anyone like this exist? What would it take for an individual to evolve to this point where pride mattered less than getting drunk? It took Yusuke a full minute to realize that the person he had been observing was now observing him as well. It was only when he began walking towards him that he straightened his posture in alarm and closed his sketchbook guiltily. He kept his eyes trained downward, even when he felt the booth cushion beside him sink down slightly.

“It’s a nice night for the Wormhole, isn’t it?” That was the name of the club. The Wormhole. Yusuke liked it because of its correlation with space. The interior was a bit more grungey than the name suggested, but it was comfortable and many interesting people favored the spot. He turned his gaze slightly to the side and saw designer streetwear clothing. Margiela, Comme des Garcons, and Vetements. He swallowed thickly, and nodded a little, keeping a placid expression. Now, how could he come away from this conversation without being eaten alive?

“I didn’t know you liked to come here, Mukata-senpai. I haven’t seen anyone else from Kousei here before.” Yusuke said, not enjoying how he had to raise his voice to be heard over the pulsing music filling the space. He chanced a full look at the other’s face, noting a septum piercing that he never saw before now, and that his classmate was brimming with barely restrained laughter, an impish grin on his face. Seeing it up close made Yusuke’s blood run cold and his face flush. There was definitely an aura of magnetism around him. He looked like someone who knew who he was and exactly how to utilize it.

“Just Issei is fine. And well, it seems you’ve found out about my double life. I hope I can trust you with this secret information.” From the expression Issei had on his face, Yusuke wasn’t sure if he was just teasing him or not. Issei put a finger to his lips, then sipped at the cocktail that had been bought for him. He held it out in invitation. Yusuke didn’t move. They exchanged a long look, and Issei’s face suddenly lit up.

“Wait, you’re the one who was Madarame’s student, right? I’m so sorry you were caught up in all that. Are you okay?” The concern seemed genuine enough at least. Yusuke reached for the stem of the glass, gingerly taking it from Issei and taking a sip. Before the burn of the alcohol, there was the distinct taste of elderflower, sweet and mellow, and a sharp note of citrus. The fact that his situation was pointed out, out loud by someone who wasn’t in Madarame’s palace with him felt strangely more painful than Yusuke expected it to. When Issei saw the daunted look on his face, he did not reach to take back his drink. He merely tilted his head, gently assessing Yusuke’s posture.

“You can keep that. Don’t worry. I’ve already had a few. The guys around here are easy to convince. Especially the tourists. They’ll always love you if you can speak English and have a pretty face.” Pretty… Issei wasn’t exactly lying. Pouty lips and doe eyes could probably count for anything in the right circumstances, Yusuke mused. Aesthetic merits were above much anything, in his opinion. Even so, there seemed to be something _wrong_ about him, underneath the red eyeshadow and black lacquered nails. It was the kind of thing that Yusuke was afraid would lead him by the hand into trouble, with a laugh and a wink. It also confused Yusuke how Issei could speak so casually about what approximated to seducing drinks from older, possibly married men. And perhaps that wasn’t even all of it. There was no way a Kousei student could afford a wardrobe like his without a very good part time job, and those were not common. Yusuke’s part time work barely kept him in good health, between dorm fees and tuition.

“Wouldn’t you prefer better company than those who must be old enough to be your father?” He asked, turning away to look back at the older man at the bar, who looked like he was still waiting for Issei to come back to him. Issei slumped down in the booth, pulling his phone from his pocket for a quick glance. Yusuke hoped he hadn’t accidentally offended him. He always spoke what came to his mind first, and wasn’t planning on changing that.

“I do. Which is why I’m talking to you. It’s Kitagawa, right? Yusuke Kitagawa? Can I call you Yusuke? You never answered my question. Are you okay?” Issei placed his phone on the table, then tucked his feet under him. Boots with thick platforms and a metal plate with an O-ring attached to the front. Similar to the O-ring, black leather collar he had around his neck. Yusuke spent a long moment just looking at Issei’s shoes, not sure if this was really someone he wanted to get close to. He liked Akira’s brand of rebellion. He always had good intentions, no matter what the circumstances were, and Yusuke admired how he always seemed to know instinctively what path to take. He never let conventions stop him from getting where he was going, and wasn’t afraid of risk. When he looked at Issei, he saw a spiral—a dizzying whirl of going through life heart-first. Like Ryuji, but perhaps with a bit more joy than anger. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but Yusuke believed in balance. It was all too easy to slip into a life like that—living to always feel good.

“I think I would prefer to know you a bit better, first, before you use my given name. I hope you understand. I’m… fine. I’m alright. I’m trying to not let any of this get the better of me. I have friends who have been very supportive.” Yusuke replied, finally finding his voice again, and answering with more conviction than he was able to muster before. Issei seemed mostly pleased by this answer, but he moved a bit closer to Yusuke, gazing at him with wide eyes full of concern. Feeling self-conscious, Yusuke sipped again from his glass, noting that the second taste was definitely better, and it was pushing him into a more relaxed state.

“But Kitagawa-kun, you could be doing better. Am I right? You can talk to me if you want. I’d love to get to know you, if you’d have me.” Issei smiled again, placed a hand just above Yusuke’s knee, and Yusuke felt his heart give an unbidden jolt. From their periphery, both of them noticed the business man at the bar give up and disappear deeper into the Wormhole. Issei seemed to be pleased by this, looking like he had just pulled off the trickster’s gambit of the decade.

“I’ll let you finish that drink, and then I want to take you somewhere else where it’s a bit easier to hear.” He continued, without waiting for a firm answer. Yusuke found himself nodding. There wasn’t really any harm in having more friends from his school. That was perfectly reasonable. And Issei seemed to be a kind person, albeit eccentric, but Yusuke could say the same for himself. That was just was art students were like, he mused.

While Yusuke took his time in finishing the drink that Issei explained was called a “bohemian”, he listened to him talk about how excited he was to finally graduate and move on to bigger, grander things. Yusuke’s first impression was a bit off, considering that Issei seemed to be a lot more ambitious than he accounted for. He said something about living in London with his father’s family, and internships, and graduate school in Belgium. It all somewhat blended together as the alcohol began to warm his skin and make his thoughts softer. Still, it was stimulating to hear someone talk so passionately about their creativity. It made Yusuke deeply consider his future, though thankfully Issei never asked. He seemed to not want to put Yusuke on the spot again with anymore needling questions, and Yusuke didn’t know how he would answer anyway.

When the glass was empty, Issei eagerly lead Yusuke back out into the street. Yusuke observed with some amusement, that even with the platforms, he was still shorter than him. Issei did indeed have him by the hand now, but somehow it was a lot more pleasant than Yusuke had imagined. This kind of affectionate gesture was a rarity for him. Many times when Akira walked him back to the train station, he would find himself waiting awkwardly, wishing he would embrace him, at least for one second. Akira was the friend he trusted most now, above all others. It was only natural to wish for such a thing, but it never happened.

“Your hands are cold.” Issei teased, as he began descending the stairs into a basement bar called “Crossroads”. This place was mostly empty. The only person was the woman behind the bar, who was delicately cleaning a glass. Wait-- A drag performer. So that’s what kind of bar this was… Yusuke immediately felt any anticipation he might have had leave him. He had several drag queens he admired, and followed on social media. Ever since he came to recognize himself as bi, it was something he became slightly interested in, for the theatrics and culture of it all.

“Hi Lala!” Issei called out cheerfully, taking a seat at the bar. Lala immediately frowned, setting the glass down.

“Oh no, just because your auntie is a regular here, that doesn’t mean I’m going to serve both you _and_ a friend. That’s not what we agreed upon. I’m already risking enough with just you, ‘Sei-tan. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you with someone your age for once, but you can’t just keep taking my kindness for granted. I’m worried about you.” She said, exasperated that despite all her protesting, Issei didn’t seem to be willing to get up from the bar. He patted the chair beside him, and Yusuke sat obediently, looking between the two of them in confusion.

“What kind of arrangement do you have?”

“It’s nothing baaad, Yusuke. I pay double, and also refer new customers. And I can only get drinks if nobody else is here.”

“And so, you have a friend here, so there is no booze for you for tonight.” Lala said with finality, picking up the glass she left on the bar, and putting it away. Yusuke could tell she probably felt like she was fighting a losing battle. Issei obviously was not happy with hearing “no” for an answer from anyone. Although, he played it more like a game, than something he took personal offense to.

“Lala-chan, you don’t understand. This is Yusuke Kitagawa. He’s that poor guy from my school that got screwed over by Madarame. Everyone’s talking about it, and he hasn’t been able to really recover. I just want to be a good friend to him, and I think he deserves this. That’s all.” Issei folded his arms on the bar and put his head down, looking at Yusuke sideways, with the same analytical look from before. It was like he was trying to see through his clothing. Yusuke felt his face flushing again.

“No, it’s alright Issei-kun. You don’t need to pay for a drink for me. You’ve already done so much to lift my spirits this night, and I’m grateful. I don’t want to make you spend money too.” He turned to glance at Lala for her reaction, and was surprised to see her reaching for two glasses.

“I’ll give you two kids screwdrivers on the house if you sit in the back. Just don’t get noisy. It’s not even close to closing time, you know.” She finally conceded and Issei got to his feet immediately, celebrating his victory with a single clap of his hands. And then he was gone in a whirl, to the most secluded section in the back of the bar. Yusuke took his time to follow, glancing around at the atmospheric, colored lighting embedded where wall met ceiling. This was feeling more and more like an impromptu first date. Or… something like that. He never considered that Issei might have an ulterior motive involving him, because he never considered anyone might look at him in that way. It seemed highly likely, though, and made him feel a spike of nerves as he sat in the circular booth next to Issei. Was all of this flirting, and signs that Issei was genuinely interested in him, or was this just something he did by default? And more importantly, Yusuke did not know yet how he himself felt about all this. If Issei was indeed interested, and he seemed to be, then Yusuke’s own decision was the last piece before something truly unfathomable might occur. Really, then… Wasn’t this all in his hands?

There was quiet for a long moment while Issei checked his phone again. Yusuke glanced at the screen and saw that he was in a group chat of some description. It seemed to be completely unrelated to him, and that made him more anxious. Was he really interested if he had time to talk to friends? Lala brought their drinks not long afterward, and then left them alone. Yusuke thanked her quietly, and found out quickly that a screwdriver was just boozy orange juice. At least it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Issei-kun, any thoughts on what we are doing after this?” Yusuke asked abruptly. Issei coughed slightly, trying to hide the fact that the question caught him off-guard.

“Uhm, no… Why? Did you have something in mind?” Yusuke hoped that the hopefulness he heard in Issei’s voice wasn’t just imaginary. This was a bit of a gamble. Something Akira would do, perhaps. Akira… Why did he feel a strange aching guilt thinking about him? What was he even looking for?

“Well, logically I think that if the Kousei residential assistants caught us returning slightly buzzed, we might get in serious trouble. And as you might be aware, that might pose quite a problem for me, because I do not have anywhere else to go.”

“Usually, I don’t have any problems though. I’m not super obvious when I’m dr—” Issei’s sentence was cut off as Yusuke pressed a light kiss to his lips. He didn’t want to admit that was his first, but it was. Maybe it was better not to dwell on such things as “firsts”. Those were for people who had both parents, and memories of going with them to festivals, and had serious thoughts on who they would give the second button on their gakuran to at graduation. At least for a first kiss, it wasn’t half bad because Issei was kissing back, cradling Yusuke’s face in his hands to keep him from pulling away too quickly. After a couple seconds more, he tilted his head away and opened his eyes, not remembering when they closed in the first place.

“We… can get a hotel room and sober up, and come back in the morning. It shouldn’t be a problem. It’s the weekend. No curfew.” Issei sighed, his eyes out of focus. He was being surprisingly coy about the whole thing, but maybe that was for Yusuke’s benefit. To be fair, he wasn’t sure how he would react if the wording was more blunt. This was already shaky ground for him.

The conversation they had at Crossroads was light, almost like there was an unspoken agreement not to talk about anything that would take more guts to conquer. Yusuke found himself opening up more, talking about future projects he was thinking about, and retold a few jokes Akira had told him. Issei seemed to be enthralled with literally anything and everything that came out of Yusuke’s mouth. He took to leaning against Yusuke’s side, the heat of his body seeping through their clothes. Together they laughed about the various quirks of the teachers at Kousei, and various policies their school had that didn’t make much sense. Inevitably the conversation turned to the Phantom Thieves.

“Did they really change Madarame’s heart? Is that what happened, you think?” Issei asked, tilting his head so his words became slightly muffled by Yusuke’s shoulder.

“They did.”

“You sound so certain. Why’s that?”

“There more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Yusuke answered, pleased by his cryptic, Shakespeare-quoting response. Issei sat upright, pouting playfully.

“That ‘snot fair Yusuke I wanna know.” He slurred, having finished his drink some time ago. Yusuke by comparison still felt rather clear-headed, which was a surprise to him. Issei smacked his shoulder lightly, and gave him a shake, as if the answer would come tumbling out of Yusuke’s mouth like a gachapon prize. Yusuke gave him a well-mannered smiled and grabbed his wrist to coax him to stop, but he only took to shaking him with his other hand, laughing softly. Predictably, that wrist was seized as well. Looking at him through his lashes, Issei’s expression was that of unabashed hunger, as if Yusuke had instigated pining him himself, and that was clearly something he got off on. This was a realization that made Yusuke’s mind spin with curious and dark thoughts. He really was able to do this to someone. To some degree, Issei wanted him. Wanted him to be rough with him, too. Yusuke wasn’t sure if he would like himself if he happened to fulfill those expectations.

“Sorry…  I shouldn’t be talking about _him_. That’s my fault. I’m here to make you feel better. Are you going to punish me?” Issei teased, and tried to pull his hands free, but was surprised to find that Yusuke’s grip was stronger than he imagined it would be.

“The more I learn about you, Issei, the more you make me wonder. Is this something you really enjoy? Is this a game you play, or is it a game that’s playing you?” Yusuke mused, still critical while Issei was visibly getting more and more giddy. The response was another kiss, but this was an entirely different beast than the first. Issei was practically begging Yusuke with his lips, for him to descend with him somewhere tumultuous and all-consuming. How quickly things turned from layers of insistent pecks, to tongue and teeth was something like a magician’s slight of hand. And all the while Yusuke never let go.

“Ow, ow, ow you’re hurting me.” Issei hissed, wriggling in Yusuke’s grip. He was elated, pupils blown wide, color rising in his cadaver-pale face. Immediately, his wrists were freed.

“My apologies. It wasn’t intentional. I think we should probably leave before your bartender friend loses her patience with us.” Yusuke said quickly. It hadn’t been that long, but apparently, he didn’t know his own strength now that he was battling the perils of the Metaverse on the regular. At the very least, he’d only hurt and not harmed. He watched as Issei downed the rest of his drink too, and set the glass down beside the other empty one with a heavy thud.

“You’re right. I’m gonna lose it if I have to wait any longer. I need this. You need this.” He climbed over Yusuke to get out of the booth, spending the brief moment when he was over his lap to steal another kiss. Something clicked in Yusuke’s mind, and he knew then, that this is when Fox should come out in full. Fox was him, and always a part of him, but there was something about assuming that mantle that changed him, just like how Akira changed when he was Joker. Fox was elegant, decisive, charismatic-- even sensual. This was all a part of him, and something about the alcohol made it easier to settle into that role. He wanted to move slowly, with purpose, and command all of Issei’s attention. It was something he embodied physically, as well as mentally.

Slipping out of the booth behind him, he took the initiative of clasping Issei’s hand, carefully twining their fingers together. With a quick wave and respectful nod to Lala, they were back in the open air. The neon lights were ethereal, in a way Yusuke never remembered them being before. He stood for a moment, dazed, and Issei let him take his time, clinging to his arm.

“It’s a good night for falling in love, isn’t it?” Yusuke found himself saying, giving into his idealistic tendencies. Chances were, such a thing would not come to pass, but he wanted to say it anyway to see Issei’s reaction. Issei made a sound like a cross between a gasp and a hiccup and then _giggled_. It reminded Yusuke of Ann.

“Maybe.” Was all he said, and Yusuke got the sense that he perhaps brushed up against something sensitive with that statement. But there wasn’t much time to dwell on it. Issei was already on the move, as he was always want to do.

“Come on. I know a good place.”

The entrance to the hotel he took them to was a winding pathway that quickly swallowed them up, and hid them from the view of passersby. The lobby was unlike any hotel Yusuke had ever been to. It was just a mirrored lobby with a computer terminal and pneumatic tube system next to the singular elevator. All of this was clearly for the purpose of discretion. The light was dim, and slightly red-tinged. Issei managed the touchscreen one-handed, selecting a room, and confirming for the night. He dug into his pockets and withdrew a fancy-looking credit card, that Yusuke noticed did not have his name on it, or even his family name. Once payment had been processed, Issei whisked him away into the elevator, then embraced him with a heavy sigh.

“This is such a good night. I’m so happy, Yusuke.” He gushed, nuzzling into his chest. Yusuke carefully placed a hand on the back of his neck. He was grateful for Issei’s openness, and hoped he would get a chance to express his appreciation properly.

“I know. It’s been stimulating for me as well. Merely following you around has been an enriching experience.” Issei laughed a little at this, and tilted his gaze upward, eyes full of mirth.

“Oh, I’ll show you stimulating. You don’t understand until you’ve been with _me._ ” He retorted, giving Yusuke’s cheek the lightest of touches. The elevator rattled underfoot as they ascended. One of the lights gave off a subtle buzzing tone.

“You sound so certain. Do you have a lot of experience, then?”

“Mm, less than you would assume, actually. If you give them what they want they’ll get bored of you and move on to someone else. And I can’t have that. But you’re not them. For one, you don’t have a single yen to give me. …Hey, I know that’s what you were wondering. Guys get self-conscious about it.” Issei peeled off of Yusuke, leaning against the railing beside him instead.

“No, actually. I was just curious. You lead an interesting life, so different from my own. I feel like if I can get a glimpse of the deeper parts of your psyche, I’ll be able to come to understand myself better too.” Yusuke explained, looking down into his reflection in the black marble floor of the elevator. He really just wanted to feel some sort of connection, even if it was fleeting, just to know he was capable of doing so. He wanted to know that he was capable of being loved, and loving in return. Although this scenario was admittedly a shoddy facsimile for the real thing. That didn’t mean that Yusuke was unhappy. On the contrary, the further things went the more he was inclined to agree that he did need this, for both the experience and his mental wellbeing.

“You need to keep working on your flirting.” Issei critiqued, obviously not taking his own statement seriously. He beamed at Yusuke, and then turned as the elevator doors quietly slid open. Yusuke found his heart hammering again, now that the anticipation felt more real since he was no longer travelling but at the destination.

The door to their room didn’t have a traditional keycard scanner. Issei tapped his phone to it instead. Yusuke entered first, and then Issei, who kept his back pressed against the door. He had a mischievous glint in his eye, but clearly was waiting to see what Yusuke would do. The room had no windows, but was decorated like standard modern and stylish hotel—except for the projections of rippling water playing over the walls. There was only one bed.

“How about this…” Yusuke began, planting his hands on either side of Issei’s head purposefully, and leaning close. “I want to uncover all the things that make you lose control, until no single coherent thought can find purchase in your mind. Guide me. Can you do that for me?”

For once, Issei could not immediately find a clever quip to fire back. He simply nodded, and reached for Yusuke eagerly, pulling him into the kind of kiss he clearly wanted to give him since who knows when. With his arms draped around his neck, he tried to get Yusuke down to his level, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth. It was a bit rough for Yusuke’s tastes, but he was quickly starting to enjoy it more. He was prone to overthinking things, but knew this was a terrible place for that. Fox, he reminded himself, and swept Issei up into his arms. Carrying him to the bed, he deposited him in the center, falling down with him, kiss unbroken. All he wanted to focus on was the closeness of their bodies. This lead him to observe how Issei’s shirt was riding up a little, and how much he wanted to put his hands there. And so he did, exploring the shape of his chest, and the faint outlines of his bone structure that created a satisfying rhythm of touch under his fingers. All the while, Issei was still practically sucking on his tongue. He wasn’t a bad kisser—just an enthusiastic one, and Yusuke wondered if he even needed to take a break to breathe. Apparently not. He’d taken to petting his ribs, loving the way he shivered underneath him. Eventually, Issei turned his head slightly, signaling for a stop. He reached up to break the line of spit still connecting their lips with one finger, panting heavily. Yusuke noticed he was breathing hard too, and that his black jeans were extremely uncomfortable now, but he looked to Issei instead, rubbing his thumb over one of his nipples. Issei arched his back slightly, his breath hitching.

“I like… being called a good boy. And having my hair pulled. And tentacle monsters, though that’s only a fantasy of mine. And Yusuke—I need to get my clothes off. If I get cum on these pants I’m going to skin you alive.” He smiled sheepishly, and Yusuke actually found himself chuckling too for once. There was nothing remotely frightening about this. In fact, if they stopped now he could probably fall asleep as he was. He could feel Issei’s heartbeat and it was thrilling to him. He leaned back, sitting up on his knees, and began removing his own clothes without much thought. Nudity wasn’t anything that bothered him. He drew live models all the time. But it was different this time, as he watched Issei strip himself of his carefully put-together outfit. There were several clinks and thuds of metal hitting the floor. When he was down to his boxers, Yusuke found his eyes stuck on the sight of Issei’s arousal straining against the fabric. Black, and covered in red pentagrams. Somehow that design choice wasn’t at all a surprise. He was pulled from his trance when he felt Issei tugging on his jeans as well. He’d gotten them unbuttoned, but stopped to stare instead. With Issei’s help, he was finally bare except for his boxers as well. Black, with constellations. Also very obviously aroused. It was easier to not be embarrassed when he was not the one mostly naked first, and had much more defined musculature. Issei had more of a softness to him, mostly in his thighs and hips.

Issei made a low hum in the back of his throat that almost sounded like a thoughtful growl, if such a thing existed. He circled his arms around Yusuke’s hips, and began kissing over his dick through the fabric, sucking at it occasionally. It was bizarre and arousing at the same time how fervently he was doing this, clearing wanting for something.

“What are you doing?” Yusuke asked lowly, proud of the composure still in his voice. Issei nuzzled his cheek against his erection once, then peered upwards.

“I want to see him. Can I?” He sounded like he was asking permission from a teacher to go to the infirmary and Yusuke’s chest squeezed slightly. This wasn’t supposed to be so endearing, but it was. Unable to find his voice, he nodded once, and watched with interest as Issei tugged at the waistband of his boxers until his erection was freed, directly in front of Issei’s face. It was quite a lewd sight, and Yusuke felt like it would most likely be seared into his memory, though he doubted he would ever have the courage to commit it to paper. Issei seemed to be impressed too, slathering the length of his dick with praising kisses and flicks of his tongue. Yusuke settled back against the wall, letting him get acquainted with that which he so obviously thirsted after. Remembering what Issei said, he threaded his fingers in his hair and pulled encouragingly forward. The sound he made was unreal, as it was the first of many to come, and broke all precedents before it. It was the voice of someone who wanted to drown in pure sensation, and it gave Yusuke chills. His dick twitched against Issei’s cheek.

“Mmmm, nice to meet you too. Ah, what to do…” Issei sighed, lazily pushing back the foreskin to press his tongue flat to the head, then a light flick over the slit. Beads of pre-cum were already seeping out. Whatever skill he lacked at kissing, he certainly made up for with this. Yusuke covered his mouth with the back of his hand, muffling a groan. Watching felt like a whole other additional sensation. It wasn’t quite possible to be a voyeur of yourself, but that’s almost how he felt.

“I think we should just… let it happen.” Yusuke suggested, not sure exactly what he was describing. He just hoped Issei would take his words and run with them.

“You’re right. I don’t wanna spend time checking boxes off a list. This is your first time, isn’t it? I don’t wanna leave you with the impression that sex is complicated when it’s really just flailing around until your dick ends up somewhere nice.” Issei seemed to be reluctant to stop teasing Yusuke’s length with short, not wholly satisfying jerks. Really, he seemed to have an intense fixation with it. He clambered up into his lap, resuming the kiss Yusuke found himself sorely missing. Rocking their hips together slowly, Issei directed Yusuke’s hands to the small of his back. This, was in fact easy. The heat Yusuke felt building before was now omnipresent. The weight of Issei’s body was oddly soothing. Gradually, Issei pushed down his boxers to ease into the sensation of skin on skin as he continued to grind against him, both of them swallowing each other’s sighs of contentment. He drew him closer, lips finding his neck instead to taste his skin. Sweat, and the scent of an earthy, androgynous perfume.  Yusuke’s hands slipped downward, kneading Issei’s ass. At the same time he nipped at his neck, pulling at his skin with his teeth. The way Issei’s body went through tremors as a reaction to the bite made him do so repeatedly. Yusuke could imagine he was eating him alive.

“Please, please… Mark me up. Oh fuck yes, please.” Issei mumbled, black nails digging into Yusuke’s shoulders. He was bitten harder and he arched his back, crying out, his voice cracking higher.

“You really like it rough, don’t you? Such a good boy.” Yusuke found himself purring, stroking and then pulling at Issei’s hair. Issei squeezed at Yusuke’s shoulders for dear life, but was like a ragdoll under his grip. He swallowed thickly, looking at him with questioning eyes. The sudden power Yusuke felt like he had in this situation made his head swim. How did he end up here? Issei noticed him hesitating, and took to wriggling his hips a bit more erratically.

“Please, Yusuke, I wanna make you cum. Please, let me—I wanna feel – Wanna taste it.” Issei babbled, near enough to incoherency that it was unclear whether this was the alcohol or just pure lust. He tipped up on to his knees so that he could get his boxers off the rest of the way, flinging them into what surely was the void. He returned to Yusuke’s lap, backwards this time, so he could grind his ass against him. This was an entirely new and enticing view, and Yusuke couldn’t help but let his hips cant up for additional friction. While he was doing this, Issei stretched forward to snatch at an article of his clothing that was still on the bed, and dig in the pockets, retrieving a bottle of lube. Mostly full.

“And of course you just have that.” Yusuke commented, voice not much louder than a whisper and thick with want. Issei turned to face him, smiling again.

“Fuck, I want you to raw me so bad, but---” Issei started to say, and Yusuke shook his head. Something about the timing just didn’t feel right to him. He wasn’t used to this lifestyle. This was what Issei was used to. Not him. Not for tonight. Issei’s rapturous expression didn’t change at all as he slicked up Yusuke’s dick, tasting him a few more times just for good measure. Then he flopped over on to his stomach, hips in the air.

“Jus’ stick it here and then we’ll worry about me.” He gave the back of his thighs a quick prod. Yusuke was all too happy to comply, draping himself over Issei’s back, pressing his length between his legs. There was a creativity in this that he would have never considered before, at no sacrifice to how bone-meltingly _perfect_ it felt. His thighs were exactly how he imagined them to be. Soft like… like—the most enticing bread. But the friction was intoxicating. Positioned like this, he almost felt like he was inside of him.

“Thinking of me first. How selfless. So sweet…” Yusuke murmured in Issei’s ear, kissing the back of his neck, teasing the skin with his teeth. Already, where he had bitten before was a furious deep pink. The rocking of his hips came naturally, as he had been given permission to recklessly seek release. All the while, he found new places for his hands to wander along Issei’s body, feeling out his hip bones, and the flat plane of his stomach before giving his arousal an experimental squeeze and stroke. Issei hissed a series of encouragements and swears, fingers curling into the softness beneath him. The slick sound of his movements was something Yusuke never anticipated, but enticed him to go faster. Inside him, he sensed his end coming, like water slowly rising to drown him in a sudden death. And then it hit in a tidal wave, and he came over the back of Issei’s thighs, biting into his nape but not bothering to properly disguise the groan that was wrenched out of him.

Issei immediately rolled over, locking Yusuke’s middle between his legs. He stared up at him, eyes pleading

“Can I have…” He ran one hand over the back of his leg, then suckled on his fingers without breaking eye contact. “... your pretty fingers inside of me?”

“Good boys get anything they want.” Yusuke answered teasingly. He was starting to feel sleepy, but was eager to see Issei get off as well. There was no reason why he wouldn’t be capable of this. With this, he would be a changed person, wouldn’t he? Issei would remember him forever, all over his body, and he would miss him badly.

 Issei passed him the lube, mumbling something about Yusuke’s “fucking freezing” hands, showing him how to warm up the slick substance properly. Then he positioned himself with one knee to his chest, the other foot planted on the bed, and his arms lying prone above his head. One finger—the middle one. The longest. Yusuke observed with rapt fascination as it sunk into Issei to the knuckle.

“Does that really feel nice to you?” He asked, experimentally sliding the digit in and out.

“Mmhmm, fuck yes it does… Fuck, Yusuke please-- Stretch me out. I wanna feel so full…” Was Issei’s breathless response. By two fingers, his legs were quivering. By three, Yusuke had gotten a good idea of where his sweet spot was, brushing it in moderation, and watching Issei devolve into his Id. If he thought he was vocal before, it really wasn’t anything compared to now, but he never got loud. His voice broke sweetly each time. He kept focused, to try to avoid getting aroused again. He wasn’t entirely successful. Feeling a bit bold, he went for four fingers, marveling at how Issei relaxed into his touch. Then to finish him off, he strategized— several bites to his inner thighs for a couple more blooming bruises, and a few carefully aimed thrusts of his fingers. Issei was practically hyperventilating. His body’s limit had been met and surpassed.

“God… fuck… Yusuke, I’m—”

 

Yusuke watched Issei spill on to his stomach with satisfaction, gently pressing against his sweet spot the whole time, gratified to see how his body couldn’t seem to stop shaking. He carefully removed what had ended up being most of his hand, amazed to see how Issei’s entrance was still gaping. It would be so easy to just slip his dick in now too, but no… Tired. Plus that would be kind of ridiculous after how hard both of them just came. He blearily watched Issei gingerly get to his feet and leave his range of vision, only to come back from the bathroom with a warm towel. They passed it between each other, until Yusuke couldn’t think of anything else to clean, and then Issei coaxed him under the covers with him. Yusuke briefly leaned over the side of the bed and fished his shirt from the floor, then helped Issei put it on.

“It’s only right.” He explained, which earned a bemused snort from beside him, somewhere buried in his embrace and a cluster of blankets and pillows. Somewhere, buried in feelings of bone-deep satisfaction, he drifted off to sleep. He dreamt about a stage. Issei was there. He could sing, surprisingly. Yusuke wanted to as well, but couldn’t. Issei explain emphatically that first he needed to steal someone else’s voice, or he would never be able to. Suddenly the stage was dark and he was alone. The floor was covered in unfinished canvases.

Yusuke awoke feeling a strange sense of despair. Issei stirred in his arms, obviously not sleeping well either. Yusuke kissed his cheek hoping it would help. Instead, Issei woke up. He seemed surprised to still see Yusuke there. The clock said it was around five in the morning. Sighing, Issei lifted himself just enough to get on top of Yusuke, and look down at him with the same analyzing look he’d come to recognize.

“I get nightmares a lot. I’m glad you’re here, though. I’m…” His voice began to crack, with emotion this time.

“I know I probably won’t be able to see you a lot after this because I’ll be busy, but I just want to tell you that it’s been good and it’s been important for me.” Issei continued, sounding like he was trying to hold back actual tears. Obviously, whatever he’d been dreaming about had left him shaken. Yusuke looped his arms around his neck, hoping that it would be enough to calm him.

“Yes, I understand. It’s difficult, because I will likely never be able to tell my friends about this. I don’t know how they would feel about this part of me, and it’s because of it that I feel like there’s a part of my life I can never share. They already think I’m a pervert, you know.” Yusuke quirked his eyebrows with his last sentence, and Issei half-laughed, half-sniffled.

“That’s because you are a pervert. I can tell you must watch a lot of porn. You were such a freak for a virgin.” He teased, settling down with his head tucked against Yusuke’s neck.

“Virginity is a social construct designed to subjugate and control women. I’ve never been a virgin.” Yusuke answered, as if he was reading from a book. But he was really just trying to make Issei laugh again.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. You nearly started fisting me. You’re so lucky that didn’t end with a rather embarrassing mess. Be careful who you do that to.” He mumbled, pinching Yusuke’s nipple out of the blue. Yusuke swatted his hand away but they were quiet for some time, just listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of the air conditioning.

“What do I do if I’m in love with my best friend, Issei?” Yusuke’s voice was barely audible, lost in the dark of the hotel room. Issei sighed deeply, and Yusuke thought for a moment that he had fallen asleep again.

“I guess you pray that he really is your best friend.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my very first AO3 submission. This is meant to answer my prompt to myself "What does Yusuke get up to in his free time?". I wanted to expand upon his experiences a little bit, especially his feelings after Madarame's palace, because I thought he didn't get enough of that in the game. Also, this functions as a prologue to a multi-chapter series I'll be working on that features Yusuke in a rare pair that I'm pretty excited about. I kept this part separate since I know OCs are not everyone's cup of tea.


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